


Summer Rain

by BarPurple



Series: Mollcroft for the win [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kissing in the Rain, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex on Furniture, Smut, Thunderstorms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-13 22:45:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7140842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Mycroft's delight summer thunderstorms have a wonderful effect on Molly's mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Rain

The petite pathologist from St Barts, who figuratively held his heart in her hands, was standing bare foot on his lawn.

The day had been stiflingly hot. One of those hot early June days that take the country by surprise and caused countless city workers to wish they’d been brave enough to call in sick and head for the seaside. Mycroft not gone that far, but he had shunted his meetings till later in the week and opted to work from home. That afforded him the benefit of not having to don a full suit, but habit still had him clad in trousers and a shirt. The fact that this mini heatwave coincided with Molly’s days off had of course influenced his decision. The sight of her in a skimpy sundress twirling her hair around her fingers as she read a pathology journal had been quite the pleasing distraction. A fact she was well aware of and, practical as ever, she’d disappeared from his study when he’d had to take an important phone.

The call done he’d found Molly in the garden seeking some respite from the oppressive heat, which made sense, what was confusing him was her posture. She had her head tilted back towards the hazy cloudy sky and her arms were thrown out to her sides.

“What are you doing Molly?”

“I’m waiting for the rain.”

“Why?”

Molly rolled her head towards him and squinted an eye open, with a smile she flapped her hand at him.

“Come on.”

Molly beckoned him again and he acquiesced with a shrug. It was a good thing that Molly had no aspirations for power, else her ability to get him to do anything she asked would have serious repercussions; he’d topple governments without hesitation if she wanted him too. He stepped on to the grass, which felt hot and ticklish under his bare feet and strolled over to join her.

“Tilt your head back and close your eyes.”

Mycroft smiled fondly and did as she bid.

A slight breeze rippled the air then the raindrops started. Mycroft frowned as the first drops landed on his face, they weren’t cold as such, but they were cooler than the heat of the day. It was pleasantly refreshing. Molly’s laughter caused him to open his eyes. Her arms were raised to the sky as if in a salutation to the clouds. Almost in response to her greeting the rain came down faster. Mycroft chuckled softly as Molly began to twirl on the spot, the skirt of her light sundress flaring around her thighs. She heard him and twisted to face him, her warm brown eyes were twinkling, droplets of rain clinging to her eyelashes; he had the sudden urge to kiss them away. 

She grabbed his hands and began to dance around him. Her joy was contagious, he whirled them round in a circle. Molly clearly approved; her arms stretched as she threw her head back laughing merrily. The rain had already soaked her hair into rat tails that whipped around behind her. Mycroft swallowed thickly as he became aware of just how thin the cotton fabric of her sundress was. The downpour had rendered it translucent in places, making it cling to her curves in a deliciously arousing way. There was only an arm’s length between them, but that was far too much. He gave her hands a tug and pulled him in tight against his body. They staggered a few steps as the momentum they’d created tried to keep them moving.

The rain was still falling hard and warm around them. Molly’s hands wound around his shoulders, the drag of his wet shirt over his skin sent odd tingles down his spine. As he often did with Molly he acted on impulse and kissed her, his fingers snagging in the wet tangles of her hair as he cradled her head in his hands. Kissing Molly was always a sensual overload, in this moment the sensation of the rain pattering against his skin mingled with the feel of her lips under his; the scent of rich wet earth blended with her lemony shampoo; the rumble of distant thunder underscored her moan of pleasure.

He drew back for breath and purred at the sight of Molly’s kiss plumped lips. Her teeth nipped at her bottom lip and suddenly she slipped out of his embrace and skipped towards the house. Mycroft started after her only to slide to a halt on the wet grass as Molly grabbed the hem of her sundress and peel it up over her body. Bloody hell! How had he not noticed that she wasn’t wearing any underwear? Molly, wearing nothing but a smile and raindrops, turned to face him.

“It’s a bit cold,” He could see that, her nipples had tightened and annoyingly were being caressed by the rain rather than his hands, “You going to come and warm me up?”  
The British Government broke into a jog, fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons as his temptress skipped into the house. He caught up with her in the kitchen, he honestly had every intention of scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to their bed, but Molly had draped herself over the kitchen table and his good intentions went to pave the road to hell.

Her wet hair was dripping a puddle onto the tiled floor; the drops clinging to her arms dribbled together and ran across her skin as she reached for him.

“I want you Mycroft.”

Her voice was low, sultry and thick with desire, desire for him. He peeled of his shirt and faltered slightly, Molly had done wonders for his confidence concerning his body, but he still had moments of doubt. Molly licked her lips, and crooked a finger at him. He was at her side in a second, bent over the table, tongue licking the rain from her skin, lips sucking and kissing a path up her ribs, devouring the banquet of herself she offered up to him.

Molly arched her back as he swiped the flat of his tongue across her nipple; her spine flatted and her hips rolled to meet the fingers he slipped against her wet sex; her hands scrabbled against his damp skin, a frustrated mewl escaped her lips as she could find no purchase.

“Where do you want me, my love?”

“Inside me.”

He straightened up and flicked the button of his trousers free. Molly sinuously wiggled on the table top, repositioning herself so her legs dangled over the edge of the table, bracketing his hips as he shoved his trousers and underwear down to his knees. Mycroft ran his hands down her thighs and teased his thumbs over the flushed lips of her sex.

“Mycroft please.”

Her perfect breasts jiggled with each heaving breath, he couldn’t deny her, hadn’t the restraint to tease her any longer. He took himself in hand to guide himself inside her. Molly hitched her legs around his hips and yanked him forward. He gave full voice to his groan of pleasure as he sank into her. He leant forward and braced his hands against the table as they found their rhythm. Molly’s hands gripped his forearms, her fingernails biting into his skin as he thrust her closer and closer to release. Lightening flashed across the sky followed immediately by a massive crack of thunder drowning out their shared orgasmic cries.

An hour later, with the storm rumbling far in the distance, Mycroft and Molly were curled together on the sofa, wrapped in fluffy dressing gowns after their shared warm up shower.

“Do summer storms always have that effect on you, my love?”

Molly hummed an affirmative; “They’ve always excited me, but I’ve never had anyone to share the feeling with before.”

Mycroft plucked his phone from the arm of the sofa called up a website.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking the forecast for tomorrow.”

He tutted quietly to himself and hit the most frequently used speed dial. Molly lifted her head from his chest and scrunched her nose at him. He placed a finger on her lips to forestall any questions.

“Hello Anthea. My apologies for the later hour. I need to clear my schedule for tomorrow. Molly and I got caught in that downpour. A slight chill, but I think a day of rest is the most sensible course of action. Thank you my dear. Good night.”

Molly blinked at him as he ended the call.

“Mycroft Holmes, are you throwing a sickie tomorrow?”

“Why I do believe I am.”

“What on earth has possessed you to do that?”

“The weather forecast. Shall I open a bottle of wine?”

He handed her his phone and headed to the kitchen. Molly frowned at the screen, and then burst into giggles. The Met Office was predicting a ninety percent change of thunderstorms for London tomorrow.


End file.
